A Matter of Sin

by Jess Michaels

  He smiled at a smaller group. “You know, I have heard London is abuzz about a certain book,” he said, watching the faces of those near him.

  And if he was honest, he also let his gaze move to Isabel. She was standing close enough that he was certain she heard his statement. And even more certain when her fingers tightened on her glass and the pink freshness slowly drained from her cheeks. There was more of Jason’s guilt.

  “Sir!” one of the chaperones in his immediate group gasped, drawing his attention back to those he had joined a few moments before. “This is mixed company.”

  He arched a brow, still interested to see how Isabel would react as he pressed the subject. “I apologize, Lady Swangrove, if I have offended you. I have never read the book. Is it so very shocking?”

  “Yes,” came a voice over his shoulder. He turned slightly to find that Jason had joined their group. If his friend was offended by Seth’s earlier dismissal, he didn’t show it. “You see, Lady Swangrove, a friend was meant to give Lord Lyndham a copy of the wicked little book, but—”

  Seth found his gaze on Isabel again and watched her swallow hard, her face pinched. Her cheeks were a rosy red now and her hands shook. He could scarcely keep his jaw from dropping open.

  Great God, Jason was correct in his ribbing. Lady Avenbury had taken The Ladies Book of Pleasures from his library. Right out from under his nose!

  To his dismay, his body reacted to that revelation as swiftly as his mind. His cock began to ache and grow heavy with interest and pleasure.

  “It is a good thing your friend did not do such a thing, my lord,” the shrill Lady Swangrove all but shrieked, thankfully nipping in the bud any arousal he felt. “It is trash, pure and simple. The fact that the author dares to call herself a lady is the biggest lie of all.”

  Seth smiled at her in reassurance, but he couldn’t help but notice that some of the married ladies in attendance who were close enough to hear their conversation were smiling knowing smiles at the subject. And they weren’t expressions that agreed with this woman’s assessment of “trash”.

  Truly, he needed to recover this book—it sounded most interesting.

  “Perhaps you are right, my lady,” he soothed. “It is better I wasn’t exposed to such a thing after all. Now, I hear that you play a ruthless game of whist. Would you care to indulge me? With your lovely niece, of course, and a fourth?”

  Seth forced himself to smile at the dim girl who was at Lady Swangrove’s side. She was dressed in the finest fashions, her hair was done in the latest style and there was no fault he could find in her face. But her expression was blank and had been so throughout the spirited exchange a moment ago. It was only now that she blinked and gave him a proper smile.

  Wonderful. She would be a biddable bride if nothing else.

  They took to the nearest table to play their cards, but as they began, Seth couldn’t help but steal one final glance at Isabel. She seemed to have regained her breath and was now leaning her head close to the Duchess of Jameswood, talking to her friend.

  If he was correct and she was the culprit in the matter of the missing book, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to ignore the topic. But even now as he looked at her, he felt less than gentlemanly.

  So he would be forced to do something about that. Or her. Soon.

  Isabel’s palms were slick with sweat as she gripped The Ladies Book of Pleasures. Her heart was pounding too, so loudly that she was amazed she hadn’t woken half the house at this ungodly hour as she crept down the long staircase into the hallway.

  In truth, she had waited until close to four in the morning to fulfill this duty for two reasons. One was that she didn’t want to bump into anyone as she had the first night she came here.

  Seth, specifically. She didn’t want to bump into Seth.

  But the second reason for her slowness was far more shocking. She had wanted to look at the book one last time. To be aroused and relieved by it before she returned it to its rightful place and returned herself to her duties.

  So she had done so, dressed, and here she was, standing at the door to the library, ready to return what she had taken and pretend as if none of this silliness had ever happened.

  She could only hope Seth would do the same. Tonight, at the gathering after supper, it had been clear he knew someone had taken the book, as did his smirking friend, Lord Northfield. They had been playing at some kind of investigation right there in the drawing room, teasing the person who had taken the item with no thought to their…her feelings.

  It was all very ungentlemanly.

  However, that fact had not stopped her from picturing Seth while she pleasured herself a second time.

  Straightening her shoulders, she marched into the library, leaving the door open so there would be a little light from the hallway to serve as her guide. At the table where she had stood the night before, she paused and slipped the book from where she had secreted it away in the folds of her skirts.

  Setting it on the tabletop, she stared at the shape of it in the darkness. How she regretted letting it go when she had hardly had the time to fully explore and enjoy it.

  When she returned to London, she was going to have to find a way to discreetly obtain a copy of her own. Perhaps Grace could help, since she seemed to know a way around everything and everyone.

  With a sigh, she turned to go, but she had not even completed her first step when in the darkness, a figure rose from a chair across the room. The scratch of flint grated on Isabel’s ears and then a candle glowed with light and revealed the person who had found her lurking. Unfortunately, it was the same person who had found her the night before.

  Lyndham.

  Her heart leapt into her throat and her hands began to shake as he moved toward her, his light lifted as if he was trying to examine her face. The urge to run filled her, to hide her humiliation in her bed and then maybe even return to London where she wouldn’t have to see this man ever again.

  In the dimness, the corners of his lips lifted slightly and he smirked at her. Her humiliation, which had burned so hotly, faded as she looked at his smug countenance. It was instantly replaced by another emotion: irritation.

  She folded her arms as he came to a stop just a step away from her.

  “My lord,” she said, pleased that her tone could be so icy.

  His smirk broadened. “My lady. We are making a habit of these late night rendezvous.”

  She didn’t move, even though he had leaned closer as he spoke and his voice was rough and seductive. Her anger faded, but she forced it back to the surface.

  “Indeed,” she said, perhaps less forcefully than she would have liked. “But I assure you this will be the last time we shall meet like this.”

  One dark brow arched and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? That is a true disappointment. But as you say this is the last time we shall do this, it would be ungentlemanly of me not to offer you some assistance tonight. Is there something you were looking for? Something you need?”

  She swallowed. Had he moved closer again? He seemed larger now, and her treacherous mind was determined to flash to all the fantasies she had indulged in while she read that dratted book. Why oh why had she allowed herself to think of this man? Now he was a distraction of the highest order.

  With a shake of her head, Isabel attempted focus once more. She had to recall that the marquis was taunting her in a most impolite fashion. He wanted her to be all twisted up and nervous; he was somehow enjoying seeing her squirm. Only she had one way to turn the tables and perhaps make him do the same. One way to defuse his power over her. A way Grace would be most proud of.

  She lifted her gaze and met his, almost overpowered by the way the light caught in his bright, blue eyes. Dear God, he was beautiful.

  But no…focus! She had to focus.

  “Oh no, sir,” she said, her tone gaining strength with each word. “I have fulfilled my purpose in coming here tonight. There is nothing I require.”

  “Your
purpose?” he asked with a chuckle in his tone. “And what was that?”

  She reached behind her and found the copy of The Ladies Book of Pleasures on the table. Lifting it, she said, “Why, I was returning your book, Lord Lyndham.” She held it out to him, and he took it with his wide eyes. “You seemed to be in quite a bad way about it tonight when you and Lord Northfield were going on and on about it. I assumed that meant you missed it.”

  He didn’t speak, but stared down at first the book and then toward her. She smiled. Good. She had shocked him by admitting what he was so ruthlessly teasing her about.

  “Oh,” he finally said after what seemed like eternity had passed with nothing but stunned silence between them.

  She shrugged, starting to enjoy her own brand of torture just as much as he had apparently enjoyed his earlier. “It is the talk of the ton, my lord. I had to know what all the fuss was about.”

  Once again, he was silent. In fact, his only response to her statement was to set the book back down on the table where she had retrieved it. His eyes never left her, his gaze never lost any focus.

  And the triumph Isabel had felt in shocking him began to fade. He seemed so stunned now that she was beginning to doubt herself. Perhaps he hadn’t believed her to be the culprit after all. Perhaps he was not shocked by her boldness, but by her inappropriateness.

  If that was true, she might have just made the biggest mistake of her life. And Serena’s.

  She swallowed. “I-I hope you will not judge my sister poorly because of my outrageous behavior, Lord Lyndham.”

  This time she was certain he moved closer. His chest nearly touched hers and heat radiated from him, washing over her.

  “My lady,” he whispered, his voice even rougher now that it was soft. “I assure you, the last thing I was thinking about in this moment was your sister.”

  Isabel gasped at the implication of those words and realized that the sharp intake of breath was the first one she had taken in quite some time. Her hands and knees began to shake.

  This situation was spiraling out of control, and she had to exit from it immediately.

  “I-I should—”

  She stepped back, but he caught her wrist and held her where she stood. “Wait…wait… Why did you take the book? It was something more than just mere curiosity, wasn’t it?”

  Isabel turned her face. To her surprise, humiliation did not return, but the heat in her cheeks did. She couldn’t tell this man, this near stranger, that!

  “I don’t know,” she said, tugging on her wrist to free herself.

  He let her go immediately, but stepped in her way so that she couldn’t flee the room. “You must know.”

  She wanted to look up at him, but feared that doing so would allow him to see everything she was fighting so hard to hide. Her longing. Her loneliness. Her desires.

  So she didn’t look at him as she whispered, “My lord, please—”

  “Isabel,” he murmured.

  Her eyes lifted in surprise. The previous night she thought he might have used her given name, but there was no denying it this time. And she loved hearing it roll from his tongue. He said it like he was savoring a sweet treat, like it was a precious word.

  She stared at him as he stared through her, into her very soul. She didn’t want to tell him her secret, she didn’t want to say why she had taken the naughty book, but something compelled her to reveal herself. There was some odd, intense connection between them despite their utter inappropriateness for each other.

  “I-I took it because it has been a long time and I—” She heard her voice making the terrible confession and she cut herself off and dipped her chin down in embarrassment.

  Suddenly she felt the rough slide of his fingers on her skin as he cupped her chin and urged her to look back up at him. Urged her to meet his gaze, which seemed so intense and yet so gentle and nonjudgmental now.

  “Tell me,” he insisted.

  She sucked in a sobbing breath. “I wanted to remember desire and pleasure and—”

  She had more to say, more depths of her soul to mine, but he didn’t allow it. Without preamble, he bent his head and suddenly his mouth was on hers.

  For the first few seconds of the unexpected kiss, Isabel was too surprised to react. Her mind raced, overwhelmed by questions and denials and fears about what exactly was happening to her.

  But then Seth’s lips shifted ever so slightly, his tongue traced the crease of her mouth, and that subtle movement changed everything.

  Isabel melted. She’d heard others describe a kiss that melted them before, but this was the first time she’d ever experienced it personally. It was as if her bones liquefied, her blood burned, her muscles vanished and all that was left was feeling. Pleasure washed over her so intensely that it overrode anything else in her mind.

  Without meaning to, Isabel lifted her hands, tightening her fingers around Seth’s upper arms and leaning into him to get more. More of this feeling, more of his taste and his scent as their bodies brushed against each other.

  There was nothing demanding in the kiss, no claiming, and Isabel realized she could end it whenever she desired. Only she felt no such need. She opened her lips fully and Seth’s tongue merged with hers in a sweet tangle of desire that made her cling to him all the more tightly.

  God, she hadn’t felt this way in so long. Actually, she wasn’t certain she had ever felt so hot and needy. Not with an elderly husband to look after and her sisters to manage and marry off.

  That thought pierced her mind and Isabel froze. Her sisters. Her sister to be more precise. Serena’s well-being depended upon her having a respected chaperone. If Isabel gave in to this desire that had suddenly reared its head within her, she risked stealing her sister’s future in the process.

  With a start, she extracted herself from Seth’s arms and backed away. Her heart was throbbing, beating so hard against her chest that it physically hurt with every pulse. She stared at him with wide eyes. He looked as disheveled and stunned as she felt.

  “I—” she said, but realized she had no words to finish the sentence she had begun. So instead of speaking, she caught her skirt in her fist and hurried from the room.

  Chapter Five

  “Sometimes we are under the illusion of control.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures

  Seth sat at his desk, absently toying with a quill. Jason stood, looking out the window across the wide expanse of the grounds beyond the house.

  “You have been distracted beyond measure all morning,” Jason finally said as he turned on his heel. “Since you intended to wait out our thief last night, I must deduce you have discovered who took your copy of The Ladies Book of Pleasures. I have suffered in silence long enough. You must tell me, who was it?”

  Seth shut his eyes briefly, flashing back, as he had been all morning, to the searing, powerful kiss he had shared with Isabel. It had never been his intention to do such a thing, but great God, what a kiss it had been. Soft, sensual, her responsiveness wild and wanton in a way that set him on his heels and made his body ache every time he recalled it.

  “Lyndham?” Jason asked. “Are you alive in there?”

  Seth looked at his friend. There was no way he was going to talk to Jason about that stolen moment. His friend would only tease and cajole him mercilessly about it.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I think it may have only been a maid after all. I actually found the book on a shelf last night. Perhaps it was never stolen at all, but only put away by my staff,” he lied.

  “Ah,” Jason sighed, his disappointment clear on his face. “That is too bad. I was so hoping it would turn out to be the lovely Widow Avenbury, or even her delightful younger sister. It was my last prospect at making this party bearable.”

  Seth glared at his friend. Jason liked women too much. If he thought one interesting, he might pursue her just for fun and Seth didn’t like the idea of him doing that to Isabel. Or worse, that she might like it.

  “Lady Avenbury i
sn’t your type,” he said, a bit more sharply than he had intended. “And her sister isn’t looking to be ruined in one of my gardens; she is seeking a marriage.”

  Jason pursed his lips at Seth’s peevish tone. “As are you, in case you have forgotten.”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “You keep saying that. But what makes you think I have forgotten this duty laid at my feet?”

  Jason examined him more closely. “Have you any interest in any of the suitable young ladies paraded before you as potential brides? I haven’t seen you look twice at any of them. The only one you’ve expressed an interest in is a chaperone. And there is something in your eyes that tells me the altar isn’t where your interest truly lies, especially with Isabel.” Jason folded his arms. “But perhaps I’m wrong.”

  Seth pushed to his feet and paced away. His friend saw too much, but Seth couldn’t admit to his failings.

  “You are wrong,” he insisted, more to convince himself than his friend. “I could no more forget my duty is to marry than I could forget my name.”

  Jason paced closer. “But will you pursue duty at the expense of your own happiness?”

  Seth pivoted to face his friend with a snort of derision. “Oh, please! As if you care a whit for my ‘happiness’. You only care that if I marry you might lose a gambling partner.”

  To his surprise, Jason began to laugh. “That may be true.”

  Seth grinned, glad that the tension between them had been cut a fraction. They were treading too close to emotions he spent a great deal of time ignoring.

  Jason clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I hope you don’t truly believe that I care nothing for your happiness.”

  “We have been friends too long for me to ever believe that,” Seth admitted. “You care for me in your own utterly selfish way.”

  Jason chuckled. “Indeed. I would like to say one thing more about this subject and then I shall let it go.”

  Seth sighed, but waved his hand for Jason to continue if he must.